Martin: Yes, yes, that's the note I can't hit. I practice in my room and Eddie ends up burying his head under the pillow.

Niles: I'm starting to think your problem is all psychological. No, no, no, I think you've convinced yourself you can't hit this note.
Martin: Yeah, I've convinced the guy upstairs, too.

[in Daphne's perspective, she sees Martin admiring the Christmas tree]
Daphne: Is everything all right?
Martin: Oh yeah. It's just all over so fast!
[Daphne turns around and tries to hold back tears]

Daphne: So how much time have you got?
Martin: Uh, about twenty minutes.
Daphne: Twenty minutes?
Martin: Yeah, and boy, will I be glad when it's all over. This is the last Christmas pageant I'm ever signing up for.
Daphne: You're in a Christmas pageant?
Martin: Well, yeah. What did you think I was talking about?
Daphne: I thought you were dying.
Martin: What?
Daphne: Well, you'd just got your test results back, you're down at the church all the time. [Martin laughs] Why are you laughing?
Martin: Well, it's funny.

Niles: Of course, I have no idea what you use to get elevator grease out of silk.
Frasier: Well, brown suede seems to leaching it out nicely.

Roz: That's a nice suit.
Niles: Well, thank you. It's brand new, and so since you'll probably be ordering food, I think I'll just go, rather than risk getting it stained.
Roz: What is that supposed to be? Some kind of crack about how much I eat?
Niles: Absolutely not. It's a crack about your table manners.

Martin: Well, I should go too. I just got a couple of hours before the pageant and I need the time to rehearse.
Frasier: Oh, not to worry, Dad. Come tomorrow, it'll all be a memory.
[Daphne walks through the doors of Cafe Nervosa.]
Martin: Yeah, but even after it's all over, I still have to make peace with the man upstairs.
[Daphne starts to sob]

Frasier: [on the phone] Mrs. Doyle. Yes, Frasier again. Hi, happy holidays. Uh, listen, just a word to the wise: Roz has put on quite a few pregnancy pounds of late, and she's really sensitive about it. So, you know, I would just say be
careful what you say to her, all right?

Boy: Hi, Santa.
Roz: Oh, my God. What are you, twenty? Get out of here.

Frasier: Roz, will you just try to stay calm?
Roz: No, I will not stay calm. Because I am not calm, I am completely freaked. I am pregnant, and you told my crazy mother, and my Christmas is ruined, and I'm too fat to even be Mrs. Santa, and I hate this holiday.